Happy Camping
by Vani Jane
Summary: Alfred and Arthur were stuck in a forest and the Brit hated it... until Alfred pulled out the chainsaw. Now, Arthur doesn't think it's bad after all.


**Author's Note:** The seventh out of ten oneshots I decided to upload to make up for my long absense. This one is inspired from a line from a book by Nora Roberts and from a dream I had – oh, and Grell from Kuroshitsuji, too.** I hope you'll lose your arse laughing at crack fanfiction and even when that happens, please don't forget to review! No flames but critique's are welcomed!**

**Pairing(s): **AmericaxEngland / AlfredxArthur

**Genre(s): **Romance

**Warning(s):** Yaoi, Lemon Cut

**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fiction by a fan for fans. Hetalia Axis Powers rightfully belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I also don't own Blue Dahlia of the Garden Trilogy by Nora Roberts. I also don't own a black butler, a red shinigami or the wonderful series that is Kuroshitsuji – that's by Yana Toboso. :D

"_Any well-built man doing manual labor looked sexy. Add some sort of dangerous tool to the mix, and the image went straight to the lust bars and played a primal tune."_

_- Blue Dahlia _by_ Nora Roberts_

"**Happy Camping"**

In the middle of some random forest, was a broken down pick-up and two males... or rather, countries.

Alfred F. Jones was thinking up of ways to get warm since his eternal companion, Arthur Kirkland, began having one of his bitchy fits, complaining that it was going to get _too _cold at night and that it was all _Alfred's _fault that they were stuck in the said random forest.

"...And you ate all the food, fat ass!" Arthur whined from the front passenger seat of the pick-up. The door was opened and he let his feet dangle out as he threw his arms in the air while, "Now, what the hell do you suppose we eat tonight?"

Alfred felt like slapping his forehead. He loved the man and he swore to God and his countrymen that he would make Arthur's life a living paradise no matter what it took but couldn't he just shut his trap for a few minutes?

"...There are mosquitoes everywhere!"

Apparently, not. Alfred sighed and went over to his lover, "The mosquito repellant is right here, Arthur."

Taking the bottle of repellant from the glove compartment, he handed it to the Briton who grabbed it quickly and began to apply the gel on his pale skin. As he did, Alfred lightly patted Arthur on the knee and pecked him on the cheek, causing the older man's face to blush a faint red.

"I'll go get something to start a fire with. Stay in there."

Arthur frowned at that but realized it would be quite faster if he left the manual labor to Alfred since the guy could compete with Superman's strength. The Briton continued to lather the lotion all over his pale skin until he heard the sound of motor running coming from behind the car.

Curious, Arthur stuck his head out and saw Alfred, basked under the rays of the sun in his shirtless glory, with a chainsaw.

As scary as the scene was supposed to be, it was enough to turn any straight man gay and lesbians straight. Arthur was already gay, so the heavenly bashing of gayness unto his system wasn't necessary but it _was_ Alfred and Arthur always had it bad for Alfred. As in, real bad.

The muscles, the purr of the killing machine, Nantucket sticking up like a rebel and the thin layer of sweat that clung to his tanned skin (he didn't even do anything yet!), it was making Arthur feel very constricted in his own clothes. Now, it didn't seem so bad getting stuck in a-

"Shit!" Arthur cursed, pulling himself from his perverted thoughts and slapped a mosquito away. He frantically searched for the bottle of repellant only to find it on the ground with all its contents spilled around it. "God dammit!"

Alfred was quite shocked by the sudden outburst from his lover but by the time he turned to look at the older man, Arthur had already jumped out of the pick-up and slipped on the repellant—and everything, as the Brit knew it, was black.

As Arthur laid motionless, he had a dream of Alfred using his chainsaw. But not on him, gads no! In his dream, Alfred was using that chainsaw to cut logs, trees, black butlers and Francis. There was even a part of his dream where he and Alfred had glorious sex with the chainsaw all being part of it. Mind you, it was a dream_ not_ a nightmare.

It was the loud hum of the chainsaw that slowly woke Arthur up from his accidental slumber. Once he had opened his eyes, he saw the orange-tinted sky. It was already sunset and he knew it was going to get cold pretty soon and dark. But he had no problems with the dark, just the cold – however, his macho boyfriend on the other hand...

Arthur turned his head to look at his macho boyfriend with the killer chainsaw, sawing up large pieces of wood to small pieces for the fire.

Damn, he was hot. Arthur licked his lips. Very hot.

Alfred's body was coated with his own sweat from the manual labor, his blonde hair clung to his skin with the exception of proud Nantucket. Those loose jeans that hung to Alfred so desperately as if it were going to fall with a little shake – oh, how Arthur wished those blasted jeans would just fall off. Never mind that he always nagged Alfred to buy more _proper _jeans.

"Just drop off, dammit." Arthur muttered to himself unconsciously and bit his lower lip as a low sound came from him. His hand was already on his crotch, touching himself over the denim. He was already hard from watching Alfred with the dangerous weapon.

He licked his lips again as he eyed the trail of sweat that tantalizingly fell from Alfred's forehead down to his neck and chest, right past a nipple. How he wished to trace that line with his tongue and teeth. Oh, but the teasing bead of sweat continued down south towards the loose jeans. Arthur's free hand held the door frame as the bead of sweat passed by Alfred's button, straight down to his—

Arthur fell off the car from leaning on the door that wasn't even closed.

"Oh, shit!" Alfred gasped when he heard the familiar sound of Arthur hitting the ground. He tossed away the chainsaw and ran to his once again, unconscious lover. "Geez, what's with him today?"

When Arthur woke up a couple hours later, he found himself lying on what seemed to be a large unzipped sleeping bag and Alfred's bomber jacket covering him. It was already dark and when he sat up, he realized that Alfred had already made a fire. By the fire, there were a few sticks with fresh fish slowly cooking. No doubt Alfred went fishing... in the primitive way as they didn't have a fishing rod or net.

Green eyes finally laid themselves on the discarded chainsaw a few meters away. Arthur felt his body tingle at the image of Alfred wielding that chainsaw.

"Oh, great, you're awake!"

Arthur's head turned towards the familiar cheerful voice and saw Alfred bringing a somewhat large bag of something that seemed heavy. Arthur cocked a magnificent brow at it as he asked the American, "What's that?"

"It's a tent." Alfred answered with a wide grin, "Mattie and I went camping once – it seemed that I forgot to take the tent from the car. I'll just wring this up and we'll have a roof over our heads tonight!"

"What a lucky turn of events." Arthur commented, finally thanking the Gods for bestowing Alfred the gift of laziness. He stood up from where he was currently sitting and went to help Alfred as the young man began to take out stuff from the bag. "Let me help you with that."

Alfred cocked an eyebrow at Arthur, as if to say _'you know how to build a tent?'_

Arthur scowled at the look Alfred gave him and told the American, "I've been camping before and more often than not, it was a situation far worse than today."

Alfred chuckled, the image of stuck-up Arthur sleeping on the dirty soil was quite funny and hard to imagine. He always pictured Arthur to be a prim-and-proper sheltered guy but then, the Brit had been a pirate during his younger days – it was always the quiet and proper ones that were bad seeds.

"All right, if you say so, old man." Alfred said and pinched Arthur's cheek, which the Briton slapped away. "But it won't be my fault if you break anything and we won't have some cover for tonight."

"Oh, belt up!" Arthur replied before they began to set the tent up.

As both men assembled the tent, Arthur was quite conscious of Alfred's lack of a shirt. Didn't the man feel any bit cold? Not that it really mattered to Arthur at the moment since he was enjoying looking at Alfred work around up close with out a bloody shirt.

Once the tent stood up proud and sturdy, Arthur looked at it and approved what Alfred got. The Brit meant that in more ways than one. He glanced at Alfred from the corner of his eye and saw that the lad was on his way back to the pick-up.

They were alone in a forest, it was dark, there was a tent and as unfortunate as it was some hours ago, he was grateful for the no cell phone service. It was perfect. Arthur nodded to himself. No perverted Frechmen or Hungarians, hidden Japanese cameras and annoying calls from bosses to mess the night up – and of course, with the wide open space, Alfred could use that chainsaw again.

To hell with illegal logging and deforestation.

"Yo, Artie!" Alfred called as he unzipped the tent and threw in a sleeping bag and a couple blankets. "Hungry yet? I got some fish from the lake nearby. It should be ready now, so we can start on dinner!"

When he got no reply from his lover, Alfred zipped the tent back up and turned to Arthur. "It's not as awesome as BigMac's, but it's hell a lot better than sco—"

Without all the grace and nobility of a gentleman, Arthur pounced on his American boyfriend, wrapping both arms and legs around the taller blonde as lips latched onto lips for a hungry battle of tongues. And it was by pure instinct when Alfred caught his lover by the arse and firmly squeezing as he did, earning a moan from the Brit latched onto him.

The need for air forced their kiss to break and Arthur took this moment to look at Alfred with a slight blush, "You were sawing—saying?"

Alfred cocked his eyebrow at the slip of tongue (pun intended) and at the now darker shade of red on Arthur's cheeks and ears. "You really are perverted, Artie!"

Alfred laughed, holding the very red Arthur to him. He grinned at the green-eyed man and pecked him on the cheek, "I just don't know what to do with you."

Red-faced, Arthur looked shyly to the American and Alfred knew what he wanted, "Saw that tree off... would you, love?"

No, Alfred didn't expect _that_. Alfred stared at the man he held, "What?"

"Please?" Arthur cooed in a cute kind of voice, pressing light kisses on Alfred's jaw. "Just this once?"

Alfred growled in his throat – dammit, he wanted to... but _no_, his boyfriend decided he should just saw off some damned tree! And he couldn't say no to Arthur, the man rarely asked him anything (and nicely, at that!). Alfred slowly got Arthur to stand and he let go of the older nation.

Alfred walked over to the chainsaw, he took it and turned to his perverted lover just in time to see his pants and underwear fall to the sleeping bag he'd been laid on a while ago. Alfred gulped as Arthur began unbuttoning his shirt, "W-Which tree?"

"That big one over there, love." Arthur said, gesturing towards a large tree.

Alfred look at the tree, it was certainly huge and it would take a bit of time but he had to get it over with. He turned the chainsaw on and swore he heard Arthur moan behind him as the motor purred.

_**-LEMON CUT-**_

The next morning, the car had miraculously fixed itself and both men were back on their way home. As they did, they didn't miss the sight of lumberjacks, a few of which carried chainsaws.

Alfred chuckled, "I hope you don't get any ideas, as much as I love you, sweetheart, we really have to get home today or Mattie's going to freak."

Arthur grunted, taking one last look on the lumberjacks before smirking at his boyfriend. "The fetish, love, is not the chainsaw."

"It... isn't?"

Arthur shook his head, "It's you wielding a dangerous tool."

**The End**

**Author's Note: **OMG. This took me a three days to write because I was stuck at the lemon. I swear, I suck at writing lemons. But I swear, it was better in my head when I imagined it. /shot/ Okay, now, that just made me sound like a pervert. XD Anyhoo, chainsaw!Alfred is really hnnngg-worthy if you think about it. I mean, just think about it! O_O

**Link to Lemon (without spaces): fujoku . livejournal . com / 5370 . html**

**And while you're thinking about it, leave a review or a critique—seriously, give me some tips to improve my lemon writing.** I feel such a noob at it. OTL But I swear, I wrote some good ones a few years ago for my originals... O_o Okay, I'll stop making myself sound more like a pervert. /shot


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